2011 IM Cozumel Post Thoughts

First off, let me say how sorry I am to continue to drag this whole thing out. You all have put up with 3 posts just on the race, and now I’m still here talking about it. Every time I look at the readership of this blog I am shocked that so many of you tune in to read me babble along through these. Thank you! I tried to put in some pictures so at least you have something fun to look at while I mumble along.

These Ironman races are my love…MY LOVE (third to Annie and Troy). I have the pleasure of squeaking out two of them a year and they are two of the most cherished days of the year for me. I often think that maybe one year I’ll take a break from Kona, and from doing well at Ironman, and I will just race a ton of them. But to do well at them, you do have to limit them, and so, I get two precious days a year.

That being said, I will replay those two days a year over in my mind the other 363 days of the year. I think about these races, what went well, what didn’t, what needs changing, what worked, what didn’t work. I try to share some of that on this blog, and some of it is just too raw to throw out there…but I try.

I came into Cozumel on less than sure footing. For several reasons my life has had a few challenges in the past few months and it’s manifested itself in different ways. I have felt internal angst, but I have also learned things about my family, my husband, and myself through it.

I arrived in Cozumel ready for a month long nap, both physically and emotionally. I slept a lot those days before the Ironman. I even skipped the practice swim and a bike date with Sarah Piampiano on Saturday to sleep even more. I’m still sad about this. But I was tired, and whooped, and just didn’t want to move much.

I laid in bed and just wondered what I was doing with my life and whether doing what I love would be the demise of so many other things I love. I worried about Troy, about my family, about my friends. I train so much, I say “no” so often, and I’m tired when I’m not training. But I love it, and I live it, and Troy loves it, and we get to travel so much more than most.

After the race I left Cozumel full of life and joy. I was on cloud 9 and race day for me was an affirmation that of all the things I do in this world, of all the hats that I wear, besides being a mom and a wife, this Ironman thing is what I love most, and sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I am truly good at. It’s funny how that can happen. Race day is supposed to exhaust you, but it was life giving to me.

Emotionally I understand now what happened to me at the finish, but it’s taken some time to admit to all this in my head. When we lose control in life, we aim to control other things. Most all people strive to have control in their life, after all, the opposite is uncomfortable. I think triathlon draws in a lot of Type A people because Type Aers like to control things and there are lots of opportunities with three sports and lonely training to be in control. Type A people don’t do motocross…to much is beyond control, and too much is high risk.

Setting the 10 hour goal was my way of trying to control my world when I was feeling out of control. Which is quite pathetic because of all the things I could “control” the 10 hour barrier was a lousy choice! Ususally I am the girl who just sets forth the “plan” and then I go about executing, keeping a rational brain about not setting time goals and not getting stuck on things I can’t control.

When I came across in over 10 hours there was a huge emotional release. I think that it was my way of lamenting the total loss of control I felt. I can’t make people that I love healthy, I can’t make people that I adore like me, and I can’t pick a number and race to it. In a stupid way, I kinda thought that if I broke 10 the other things in my world would be righted, or that I could at least get a handle on them. Or at the very least that me lacking a handle on them would suddenly not seem so bad.

Like most triathletes, when I struggle in other aspects in life, it’s really easy to disappear into the training. Training for an Ironman is a good excuse to stick your head in a hole.

We ultimately don’t have control of much. We go out there and we do our best, in life, in sport, in relationships. And sometimes our best falls short of what se set out for. But if we are grounded, willing to learn, to self asses, and if we can still smile, then we haul ourselves out of the medical tent, we walk back and get our deserved medal, we grab a massage and some grub, and we move on. We fall into the arms of those that never leave our side and we go grab a fruity drink.

It may not make a lot of sense to you, but it does to me now, and it’s my blog. Ha!

So, if you read this blog to learn something through my mistakes, I will say, let go of the time goals. Work on what you can, and drop the rest. Lose the expectations, not because they are unrealistic, but because having expectations doesn’t get you any closer to achieving them. Focus on the hard stuff that no one else will do, be calm when others have angst, rally when others are falling apart.

I say these things not because I do them, not because I have mastered them, but as a reminder to myself. After all, it’s my blog… HA!

In terms of this crazy sport called triathlon, I still have much to work on, but when I look at what I asked myself to do, and I look at how much I gave to myself out there, I am really pleased. I am not upset about not going under 10, but I am upset that I set that as a goal in the first place. I am beyond lucky to be able to race these races, I am beyond lucky to have the support that I do. I don’t take these days for granted. They are a gift. But I also realize that racing triathlon is most the time, the thing I do to feel in control of my life, my weight, my emotional state, and my health. It may not be the best, but I recognize that it is that for me right now.

I want to give humble thanks to the following:

My husband and daughter: I am both easy and hard to live with. They are both easy and easy to live with. They are the two people in this world that I would lay across a set of railroad tracks for. Thank you with all that I am.

Chuckie: Two years he has put aside his own goals and dreams to train me. Thank you for all that you have done for me, it’s been quite the education.

PIC: She really is my sister from another mother…and father. Thank you for being that listening ear, and that woman who really accepts me for me.

Kompetitive Edge: Thank you guys for all the pep talks, and all the gear, and all the support, and all the well wishes. You have become family to me this year.

Quintana Roo: Thank you for the bike! Seriously, I love my little blackjack. My QR loved racing in QR!

Punk Rock Racing: Ron Ron Ron. What can I say? Not only do you provide me with the best t-shirts ever, but with advise and friendship that I really value highly. I call you when I am nervous, and you always calm me down.

TYR: My body thanks you. I have no chafing…except from the gel wrappers I stuck up my shorts. I have the most wonderful training gear. I am so lucky.

Justins: I went through about 40 jars of almond butter this year. Without you, I would be really skinny…and would barely be able to stand up!

Love Grown: I went through 58 bags of your love this year, and had it not been made with love, I would have surely starved to death, and died of a broken heart. Thank you.

Nathan: The best hand held bottles and waist packs anywhere. There was many a run where I would have been left high and dry without your products.

Nuun: The new grape Nuun has single handedly saved me from many a delirious bonk. My body thanks you.

First Endurance: What can I say, the Pre Race has propelled me to new heights, and the Ultragen has been there when I dragged myself up on the porch, kaput from all the training. Your products work. Bottom line.

Josh at Tri-Massage: From the All Sports Recovery Club to Josh’s MRT, by body is healthy, happy, and ready for many more years of this. Thank you.

To everyone who reads and my extended family: thank you for coming on the journey with me. From twitter to Facebook, to this blog, to my email and phone, I always get so much support from others. I think about all the close friends I have made the last 5 years and I know that these have been the best years of my life.


Kona – The Swim

The morning of October 9th finally arrived! We were up and out of the house at 3:45am. Michelle was volunteering at the body marking area. Troy and my dad wanted good spots on the seawall and I just assumed I would go with all of them to the race start. I was pretty much the first athlete to arrive at the race area, but it just meant I had lots of time to get things done. I was really nervous, trying to talk myself down and to stay calm, but it was tough to get down my 2 Mix1s and toast with Justin’s Almond Butter and a banana.

My Aunt Grace with her GoSonja shirt on!

It took awhile for me to find body marking which is odd because I should have asked PIC, since once I finally found it she was there body marking away. It was behind the King Kam hotel. Each number range was assigned 4 volunteers and my range just so happened to be manned (womaned) by the ladies that sat behind us on the airplane. What’s the odds? They were super duper excited and did a fantastic job stamping my arms with the official numbers. I’ve never had the cool number stamps before and it made it feel like this was a big deal, which just added to the nerves!!

From there I headed over to transition to check on my bike. There was a volunteer every 5 feet telling me which way to go and within 20 seconds of arriving at my bike a lady appeared with a pump for me to use. The volunteer support at this race felt like 5X the amount I have ever seen at any other race (that is once you “found” body marking). I pumped the tires, adjusted the shoes (we got to put our shoes on our bikes, that’s unique to the World Championships).

I got into my run bag (led by a volunteer) and deposited some Benadryl just in case I had another allergic reaction at the energy lab. I wanted to make sure I was self sufficient, especially since I knew it was a potential “issue”.

Then I was done and had like 90 minutes to wait. I found Troy and said hi, I ambled around. Finally I found Chuckie and Angela and sat down with them. That was great because Chuckie really talked me through my race and reminded me of all the little details we had been over.

When it was finally time to start the getting in the water I felt ready for the day and ready to dig deep. I was nervous, but I knew that once we got going the nerves would go away and I would feel better. Everyone had nerves, everyone. I didn’t see one person that looked totally calm and chill. I think it’s inevitable.

I’m not in this first picture, but look at everyones face, intense!

And then there’s me…dork!

The pros got off and going and then we age groupers started descending onto the beach. I got in the water right away and found my friend Julia. We had a little nervous chat and then I got swimming out to the start line. First I waved to my two dads who were ready with cameras.

I was getting really excited as I hung onto a boat near the starting line. There was a Ford car floating in the water, there were thousands of people on the seawall. The pier was lined with VIPs and cameras and volunteers. They started giving us a countdown and yelling at us to stop hanging on the floating car. I lined up way left and way in the back.

I was hoping for a stress free start, I guess that’s always the hope isn’t it? The cannon went off and I hit “go” on my watch and started swimming. PIC got a great shot since she just happened to be standing next to the cannon. You can see the car in the water too.

The contact was minimal, people were swimming nicely and I seemed to mesh with the swimmers around me rather quickly. The water is super clear and the tropical fish are swimming below you, but you can’t get caught up looking at all those beautiful fish, you must swim. I didn’t have too much trouble ignoring the fish but every once in awhile you would swim over something that would catch your eye, like a tire…or a lunchbox, or a paper plate.

The other great thing about the clear water is that it’s so easy to find feet to swim on. The bubbles are obvious, even the feet that are 5 meters ahead are obvious. A guy went past me swimming a good clip so I jumped on his feet. He was swimming faster than me so I really fought hard to stay on his feet. I followed those feet all the way to the turn around where I lost them to the cluster of people trying to turn around a boat, get their bearings and get going in the right direction again.

Then I played a game. I would sit on some feet, then I would pass that person and swim really hard to the next set of feet ahead of them. Then I would sit on those feet before I did it again. I felt like I was swimming really strong, and really fast. I was telling myself “This is going to be a great swim”. I felt it. I was hanging on to feet that were barely within my reach. The way back took forever as I played my game of hopscotch. Finally I could see the pier, and then the Ford car, and then the final buoy.

I had lots of contact the last 50 meters or so. We were funneling into the swim exit, there were about 5 of us around and we just pummeled each other those last yards. Kinda silly but it was what it was.

I’m in here somewhere, how did my dad know it?

I’m the pink cap with the curved arm.

white TYR goggles…that’s me!

I pulled myself up the stairs and ran up them, just in time to see the clock say 1:10. My first thought was “seriously”? I was a little shocked, I swam really well, really straight, and quite hard. To see the 1:10 was a little alarming because it just didn’t match my perceived exertion.

I didn’t have any time to think about it though. I was through the showers, grabbing my bag and finding a seat in the changing tent. There were actually seats for me and about 4 volunteers waiting to cater to my every need. They ripped off my swimskin immediately and helped me with my stuff. Again lots of volunteers. I ran out of the tents just in time to see one of my competitors eat it on the run out. I felt bad for her, I would not have wanted to fall down in transition.

I found my bike likity split, threw on the helmet, grabbed my bike and got the shanizzle out of there. More volunteers were helping guide my way and before I knew it I was on my bike, getting my feet into my shoes and biking down Palani Road.

6 hours after 62 miles

At 2am, I should not be blogging. I should not be awake. But here I am, starting my blog on my iPhone, laying here in bed with a sound asleep Troy and Annie. I am awake because the pain woke me up. Not that I was sleeping that well anyways. Tossing and turning, shoving my pillow between my legs, searching for a position that my legs would accept.

Ben asked me on lap 9 to explain the difference between the sprinters paincave and that of the endurance athlete. While the sprinter dealts with 100% all over mind degrading pain, the minute he or she stops it would take a small miracle to conjure up the severity of the pain. To the endurane athlete the pain is much like that of injury. Every single step hurts with searing sharp pain in the hips, knees, and ankles. But, you are there for it. There is no mentally escaping from the endurance runners pain. The pain does not stop when you stop and often times haunts you for days. The endurance athletes pain is almost a form of depression. And when it wakes you up at 2am, when you obviosly need your sleep, you feel utterly broken. That’s the difference.

So yea, I hurt. But as I said many times during my 62 miles of running yesterday, “I’m still me”. I’m still smiling, chatting, laughing, downplaying the effort, and just generally exicuting sound strategy. I’m still totally humbled by everyone who came out to run with me. Several of them, including X-stud quarterback Ryan, and his motorcross racing wife, Melissa, went father than they ever had before. They dragged Ryans sister Jen out, who doubled her longest run of 6 miles out to 12. She’s probobly feeling very similar to me right now.

As I lay here waiting for the Vitamin I (as Chucky calls it) to set in, my big thoughts of the day include.

– I am so supported by my running friends, I had someone with me every lap! I can not thank you guys and gals enough.

– My husband Troy continues to shock and amaze me and others with his ability to watch Annie in a boaring parking lot for 13 hours while keeping me refueled, doing a check on me every lap, being time keeper, welcoming runners there to pace me, and supporting all of us.

– The gear my sponsors have provided totally rocks. First Enduance, Nuun, Mix1, and Justins Nut Butter kept me fueled, Nathan provides the most comfortable running packs, Core Concepts clothes me in things that do not rub or chaffe, Trakkers hats keep me sunburn free, Saucony has created a shoe I never once wanted to change out of even when they were a soaking wet muddy mess, and Josh at Tri-massage with his fixing techniques and exercises kept me on my feet.

– Although most of the entire run hurt, I reached a pain plateau and it was one that I could manage.

– There are 38 more miles in me, I now know this.

– Do not sit down. Beware of the chair. Sitting is reserved for the port-a-pottie.

– Circus Animals (the pink and white ones) and yellow bunny peeps saved the day. These two things rocked my mouth!

With this thought, I will post this rant and get back to bed. The pain has gone from a 29 to a 16 and I think I might be able to sleep. I took video during my run, so tomorrow I will edit it and post it, along with a play by play report. Until then…yawn!


You may have noticed that that I affectionatey refer to Michelle as PIC. It stands for “partner in crime”, I’m not really even sure when it came about. Maybee when she started her blog? I don’t know. She calls me PIC too. It’s rather fun. Sometimes I call her Fordy-Ford, or Michelley-Elley.

Michelle and I met shortly before our first ever trip to USAT Age-Group Nationals in 2007. That was way back when I had only done two sprints and Michelle was still riding this red bike with like Shimano 105 on it (I don’t mean to offend anyone…well maybe I do a little bit).

Breakfast two days before Nationals in 07

We were roomies in this totally cheep extended stay hotel right next to Nike in Portland. We both had what I would call super solid races, but even bigger than that we began a friendship that both of us never realized would be so much fun.

I think this was probably the last time we got totally sloshed right after a race…we are much more dedicated now (we are the middle two).

We trained together occasionally, mostly on weekend bike rides. Michelle was a working girl with a demanding job, but she was focused and nailed her workouts.

We went through a Twinkie phase (identical, comes in a pack of two). Almost all the group pictures we were standing next to each other, and we had matching helmets, blue bikes (she got rid of the crummy red one…no offense) and ponytails. Check it out.

Twinkies we are

Scary huh?

We came back to nationals in Portland in 2008 ready to kick ass, and qualify for Team USA. We had Australia on our minds. For the first time we allowed another person into our nationals lair, Tyler.

PIC, Me, and Tyler

He proved to be an acceptable addition. It also meant that PIC and I shared a bed for the first time. And we learned that we sleep well together, who would have thought? Probably a fact that our husbands try not to think about too often…or maybe they do. I don’t know and this is going south…

So we both really rocked the house at Nationals, it was the same course as the year before and PIC knocked 16+ minutes off her time, and I took off a little over 6. PIC nabbed that Team USA slot, and I missed it by one, but got it back in the lotto.

Early morning pre race, we are together, there’s a shock!

Several months after Nationals, the best thing EVER happened to my athletic career (and let’s be honest, it’s all about me). PIC got laid off, SWEEET, full time training partner. I think this is when the term “PIC” came about. That year was about becoming super stud kick ass athletes and helping each other get there. We started on the bikes.

Mt.Evans in the back, we two man teamed it all over the place that spring.

We really learned a lot about each other. Usually we knew more about where each other was at than we knew about ourselves. I knew when she was blitzed, she knew when I needed to eat. We shared gels, we took turns on each others wheels, and we had so much fun.

We raced across the county, heck the world, together. We always found a way to get our PIC time even if we weren’t rooming together. We found a camaraderie that year that was sorta “the next level”. I think in the beginning we may have felt a little competitiveness against each other, but any and all of that dissipated throughout last year. When we became PIC’s things changed and we helped each other through the hard times, and the hard races, and we celebrated with each other through the good ones. It helped that we had numerous good performances through the year. At Kansas, we qualified for Clearwater together.

We went to Nationals for a 3rd year together, we added Beth and Tyler to the room, which meant again…PIC and I were sharing a bed. Which apparently meant great races for the both of us. PIC taking 5th in her AG, and me 14th, both earning TEAM USA spots if we so choose to take them. Seeing her on the podium made me feel like I was on the podium, I kid you not.

Red hair extension…it was for CHARITY!

We went to Worlds in Australia with our different families, but we found a way to hook up and train everyday together. Training in unfamiliar adds a whole different crazy factor to things, but when we were together we seemed to have so much more confidence. It didn’t matter that we were riding on the wrong side of the road, we handled it together and we laughed a lot. Meeting up with Michelle was like a having a piece of home with me.

In AUS, training, note that we now have matching TT bikes, and non matching helmets, since I crashed and broke mine.

I think having each other there at World Championships paid off, we went 19th for PIC, and 30th for me, in our age group, in the world. And you know, PIC slept over in my hotel room the night before, I’m thinking that’s why we raced so well.

And at the end of the season we found each other in Clearwater, out there on the race course, and ran together for part of the race. It was almost poetic.

Michelle and I have learned through the years the value of having a training partner. I don’t think either of us could have ever imagined just how tight we would become. Going forward this year we have switched coaching, and we have switched team affiliation. It was a process that we relied heavily on each other to get through. Lots of leaning on each other, and a fair amount of tears.

It wasn’t easy, but you live, you learn, and you try to move forward with an open heart. With Michelle, I’m not afraid to tell her the truth, and she knows I’m in her corner 100%. I’m so extatic that the recent changes in our athletic career have brought us even closer together. I couldn’t imagine racing in a uniform that is different from hers, so I’m pretty stoked that this year we will be Twinkies again.

Having the same coach will enable us to continue to train together and to help each other achieve our goals. We have been very upfront with our new coach (who likes upfrontness) and he has instructed us to tattle on each other to our heart’s content (when it pertains to training). He seems to “get” our relationship and has an idea on how to use it to make each of us stronger.

We feel like we are a little mini-team this year. Our sponsors are the same, we represent them together, and although we are training towards different goals (as we have most years) I have no doubt that this year will yield lots more fun and silly pictures.

Thank you PIC, Michelley-elley, Fordy-Ford for all of your support, for being my “honesty” meter, for not making things harder than they need to be, for traveling with me, planning with me, schooling me in swimbikerun, for not holding it against me when I school you in bikerun, for sharing recipes, and photos, and lessons learned.

Here’s to another year of fun, we’re gonna kick ass!

Mt.Evans Winter Summit


Last year I did a running adventure on Mt.Evans. My knee was smarting pretty bad at the time so I turned around at mile 7, and the boys went all the way to 9.5 before turning around at the lake. I knew, ever since that trip, that one day I wanted to run all the way up to the top. Mt.Evans is what we who live in Colorado call a 14er. It’s a peak who’s summit is 14,000 feet elevation or higher. We have 52-54 of these in Colorado, depending on which list you believe. I have been up 9 of them and none in the winter.

Mt.Evans is one of 2 Co 14ers with a road all the way to the top. I have ridden my bike to the top of Evans, but never run, or walked, for that matter. Saturday I was going for it. I convinced PIC to come some of the way with me since she had a three hour run to do, and at the last minute I convinced Dave to come all the way with me. He said “I haven’t done anything crazy in awhile”. Hang out with Sonja on a regular basis and you’ll get roped into something crazy! Here we are, leaving the parking lot at the Mt. Evans toll booth (closed for the season).


My plan was to run all the way up Mt.Evans. I thought it was 11 miles to the top, and then Dave told me he looked it up and it was 14.7. Humm, let’s just ignore that fact for a little while. The first three miles of the road have the most snow because they are in the shady tree line. The road has been closed for several months now and those first 3 are painful as your calves adjust to the hillage and you get warmed up.

Dave in the shade with some road peeking through

At about 3 miles you turn a corner and there is the glorious sun shining upon you, with the most amazing views. Suddenly, you feel very happy to be alive, and very happy to be healthy and on the mountain. It’s an Ah-Hah moment and all three of us couldn’t help but get a little giddy.

Michelle in the sun

Me in the sun

You wind your way around, and when the road is in the sun you have no snow to deal with. It’s runnable, although the effect of the altitude really starts to hit. There are no guard rails on the Mt.Evans road so at times you feel like you are running on the edge of the world. It was so clear, and so crisp.

Michelle running on the edge


The views are spectacular, as we wound our way up up up. We didn’t see anyone out there, just some bighorn sheep (in the same place I saw them last year and pointed them out in my video). We ran together most the time, and always within close sight. One person would stop for some reason, the others would go ahead and we rotated around like that for awhile.

Dave having a little solo time.

Pointing out sheep

Too soon, just before mile 7, it came time for PIC to turn back. She’s got a marathon in January and she was being diligent towards that goal (something I’ve just got to break her of…hahahaha). We took some parting shots. Behind us is the summit of Mt.Evans.

The three musketeers, that road behind us is the first of the big switchbacks, at about mile 10ish

Finding training partners that you are compatible with is one of the best things in life.

And then off PIC went, back down the mountian

As we ran towards the lake, passing the 9 mile mark we encountered some crazy wind. We hunkered down and just persevered. You would never know it’s windy by this shot. Also, I didn’t notice that it looks like a rainbow threw up on me. That’s kinda my style…I match, by not matching.

Me, on the way to the lake.

I had been munchin’ on Sport Beans all along but as we got through the 2.5 hour mark I was craving a little more substance. Justin’s Nut Butter to the rescue. 200 calories of honey almond butter bliss. I have a mouthful of it here, shut me up for awhile too.


Dave and I were having an absolute blast and both felt really good. After the lake, around mile 10 the wind was just whipping across the road and it was gorgeous. This also marked the point, mile 10 (on the first switchback) where we realized that it was not 11 to the top, but indeed we had 5 more miles of up up up. We were both feeling great, and were game for it.

wind whipping

We wound our way up through switchback after switchback. Back (headwind) and forth (tailwind). We hit a rhythm together and would run in unison without a spoken word. Dave is a great adventure partner, he never complains, he always sees the beauty in things, and when the work needs to be done, he just settles in and does it.

We come around a switchback, and ahhhhhh, there are those views that we so love here in the rockies!

At mile 12 we hit a road block. We had been navigating the switchbacks, but boom, we we encountered a wall of snow. Not knowing what the other side looked like, we opted for a little rock climb instead. That was fun!

wall o snow

an accidental picture (I was zoomed in) but kinda cool none the less

Through the last 5 miles we would alternate “run to the next pole, walk to the next pole”. The running sections felt like intervals on the track. The legs were just loaded and in pain. Then we would walk and they were immediately fine. Walk run walk run. The last 2 miles, we walked. Fast, but walked. The altitude was just crazy, and it was cold, and windy. We arrived at the parking lot at the top, threw on all our down layers, and made the short rock climb up to the summit block. The view was phenominal.

Here’s Dave on top

It was time for a mix1 on top…and another Justin’s Nut Butter, and sone Nuun.

Dave and I on top

We spent 30 minutes or so at the top, and were able to pick out tons of 14ers: Longs Peak, Pikes Peak, Beirstadt, Greys, Torreys, Harvard, Columbia, Lincoln, Democrat, Bross, and Holy Cross. Wow! We were both hesitant to head back down, but alas, it was time to get a move on.

Instead of the switchbacks we off-roaded and rock-hopped our way straight dawn, saving like 3 miles of running. Once we hit the bottom switchback it was pure running all the way home. We ran into one guy on skiis skinning up to the lake at about 7 miles from the car. He was enjoying himself, but rather hung over as well. Ha Ha!

We came around the big horn sheep section and boom, in all his glory, guarding his pack.

The last few miles you are always ready to see the parking lot, and before we knew it we were back down to the car. We couldn’t help but be happy to be done and pleased with a fantastic day. 27.4 miles round trip in just a little over 7 hours. 4,000 ft of elevation climb or so. I can now say that I’ve bagged my 10th Colorado 14er (I have 2 in CA, 1 in WA). PIC’s car was gone which meant she was safe. We changed clothes and headed home, with silly grins plastered all over our faces.